Something to Remember
by blondevor
Summary: Nikita is still in Section but some old faces are coming back. Takes place 13 years after the last episode of LFN. Read and Review!
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimer applies…

This story assumes that the reader is aware that the last episode of LFN took place early in the year of 2001. There may be spoilers for any episode of the show.

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_**2014 - London**_

Her routine hadn't been hard to map out. With the little that he did know, he was surprised that she hadn't been killed by terrorists a thousand times over by now.

He stood in the shadows of the brownstone across from her favorite coffee shop. The one she would stop at every Saturday morning, buy a double non-fat soy latte, and then sit for approximately 30 minutes talking with an older man who he figured was the owner.

They spoke with each other in the way old friends do…old friends with history, perhaps not always pleasant. He had noticed that she often had a wistful, almost sad look on her face, when she left and he wondered what this older man meant to her.

There was no doubt. She was still beautiful, even now, so many years later. It was no wonder that she held onto people's hearts across oceans and continents and time…

He frowned, his dark eyes troubled, as he pushed an unruly lock of brown hair behind his ear.

He still wasn't sure what he was going to do with all the information he had gathered over the last few months.

The truth was he was nervous. He wasn't entirely sure that he _wanted_ to do anything.

There were a lot of different ways that it could all play out and many of them ended badly. No…'badly' was an understatement.

'Deadly' was more like it.

From everything he had seen she was definitely still in Section. That meant that he had to be extremely careful.

After all, he had been told, no ordered, NOT to do this. Not to try to go back. Not to go searching for ghosts…

But ghosts were such a large part of what he had left of his fragmented past. Ghosts of memories and the lies that surrounded them like a shroud. He needed to know more.

They both needed more than what they had today.

The friends walked together to the front. He watched her as she held the door open for a young mother and child, kissing the older man on the cheek before she left.

She was laughing…her smile reaching her eyes as she walked down the street. It must have been a good day today.

He remembered that laughter. He remembered a lot of things. He wanted more than something to remember.

Halfway down the block she stopped and for a split second he thought he'd been discovered.

But then she just looked back at the coffee shop, still smiling, her blonde hair piled haphazardly in a knot on the top of her head. She stuck her hands deeper in the pockets of her black coat and continued on her way.

He knew where she was going.

It was market day. She would want to pick up her organic vegetables and fresh milk.

He waited until she had turned the corner before walking across the street and into the coffee shop.


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimer applies…

Thanks for bearing with me on that first vague chapter. Lots of hits...where are those reviews? I'd love feedback...

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_**The coffee shop**_

The kid had been coming in almost every Saturday now. Impeccable timing too…always right after Nikita had left.

He may be old but coincidence this was not.

Walter watched him out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he needed to worry.

He could just be a secret admirer. His Sugar was still one of the most gorgeous women around. But something about him told Walter that this was not the case.

It was the wariness in his eyes. The way he tried just a little too hard to try to fly under the radar.

Other people, normal people, might just assume he had a schedule to keep. But his Section gut knew otherwise.

"Beautiful day isn't it?" Walter asked him, innocently drying a cream ceramic cup.

The kid looked up at him, dark, doe-eyed, but with an edge. He may look like a kid but those were old soul eyes.

Walter took in the artfully rumpled yet expensive clothing, black messenger bag over his shoulder, and the boy's surprisingly perfect posture. Most kids his age slumped, their pants about to fall off with the wind…looked like he worked out too. The way he held himself, his stance…Yep, there was definitely something about him.

"Um, yes, nicer than last weekend. I'll have a coffee, black…" He replied, still wondering what he could ask that wouldn't give him away.

He couldn't keep the surprise off his face when the man behind the counter set down the coffee at the same time he finished his sentence.

Walter chuckled, picking up his own cup and taking a sip. Definitely NOT Section.

"What you think I'm too old to pay attention to repeat customers?" He teased him.

The boy had the grace to look embarrassed.

"No, no. I just didn't realize that I was so predictable…that's all."

Interesting choice of words Walter thought. Why would a college age kid be worried about being predictable? Maybe he'd have to rethink his earlier thought…maybe the kid was Section.

"Most people like the fancy stuff. Double shot. Latte. Caramel. Mocha. You name it they want it. I guess it goes back to the old school of thought that more is better."

Walter shrugged and continued.

"Me, I'm like you, give it to me straight and clean."

The kid smiled, just a small smile, shy almost. Like he didn't want to reveal too much.

"Yeah. That's the way my dad takes it too."

Walter looked him over, wondering what it was about this kid. There was something nagging at his mind, like he had something to remember.

He set his cup down and put his hand out.

"Walter. Welcome to my shop."

The kid visibly paled. What had he said?

Slowly the kid set his cup down and extended his hand, speaking softly.

"My name's Adam…it's nice to finally meet you Walter."


	3. Chapter 3

Standard disclaimer applies…

Thanks for the reviews!

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_**The coffee shop cont…**_

Walter had to put his hand out on the counter to steady himself.

"Holy crap!" didn't come close to covering it. Adam stood patiently, waiting for him to acknowledge who he was.

Did the kid have a death wish?

Walter turned away, his hands shaking. Oh sure he was officially out of Section but that didn't mean that they had stopped watching him. Oh no, they never stopped…not until you were six feet under. Six feet under my ass, he thought. He was pretty sure they torched everyone, you could forget about proper burials, couldn't have evidence hanging around that ghosts were actually real.

"You shouldn't be here." Walter told him as he turned back around to face Michael's son.

The ramifications of the last few minutes were becoming all too clear. Adam had been following Nikita. Adam had _found_ Nikita. The thought was staggering.

But **why** was the bigger question. Michael? Had something happened to Michael? Was this some sort of last wish to be carried out?

Walter scoffed at his own thoughts. Michael would never put Nikita or his son in danger like that. Which meant that if Michael was still alive, he didn't know Adam was here.

How the hell had he found Nikita?

"I had to come." Adam finally replied, moving to sit at the stool at the counter. His shoulders sagged, as if he could no longer bear the weight he'd been carrying around.

Now that he knew who he was, Walter could definitely see the resemblance. That was the thing that had been nagging at him. As a child Adam had looked more like Elena but now as a young man, he was mostly Michael. Similar mannerisms, the hair, the nose, the mouth…but with Elena's soulful brown eyes and darker complexion.

God help the female population.

But he was troubled. That much was clear. If Adam remembered Nikita and knew about him then it was quite possible that he knew enough to make him a threat to ALL their safeties. What had possessed Michael?

Walter needed answers. "Why?"

"My dad…and me." Adam replied, seeming more his age now that his secret was out.

"Look kid, you're going to have to give me more than that. Why don't you start at the beginning? Like how in god's name you found Nikita in the first place…"

Walter refilled both their cups and waited.

"It wasn't so hard really which surprised me. I would have thought that with Section and all…"

As fast as a sprint runner Walter reached across the counter and slapped his hand over Adam's mouth. Adam's eyes went wide with fear.

"Don't you EVER say that word out loud again? Do you hear me? NEVER again."

Walter was shaking his head like crazy, his long braid flipping around to land on his left shoulder. He brought Adam's ear close his mouth as he whispered and Adam could smell the faint scent of Patchouli oil.

"Do you even KNOW what you are risking by being here? THEY might have already seen you. Not only have you put yourself in grave risk but also Nikita and ME…and Michael…wherever the hell he is. Now shake your head that you understand what I'm telling you and that you will never speak its' name out loud again."

Adam shook his head up and down. Walter removed his hand, wiping it on the apron at his waist.

"Damn fool. Let me close this place up for awhile before you open your mouth again."

He flipped the sign on the door saying back in one hour, hoping that would be enough, and locked it. He motioned to Adam to follow him into the back.


	4. Chapter 4

Standard disclaimer applies…

This is fun! Thanks again for the reviews! Keep them coming…I'm going to try and post often.

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_**Above the coffee shop**_

Adam kept his mouth shut as they walked up a winding staircase to a large flat.

When they reached the door Walter put his finger to his lips indicating that he still didn't want any speaking…yet.

As he locked the door behind them he opened a console next to it, typing in codes, watching small red lights blink, turn yellow and then green. Around them the shades slowly closed, lights dimmed and a soft hum reverberated around them.

Sound-jamming security.

The gravity of what he had done hit Adam hard.

His father had taught him the finer points of home security, sweeping for bugs and how to defend himself. It would seem that Walter felt the need to engage most of them due to his coming.

He watched as the older man locked down the place so tight that even a termite couldn't get in with out them knowing about it. This went far beyond his late night conversations with his father about the importance of being prepared, of always paying attention to his surroundings.

This was real. And it scared the hell out of him.

Walter moved over to a large armchair by the window and collapsed back into it, rubbing his hand over the bandana around his head.

It would seem the gravity of the situation had hit him too.

"What the hell have you done?" Walter said, more a statement than a question.

"I didn't mean to! Honestly I didn't…I didn't realize..."Adam sputtered.

"No of course you didn't! Do you think this is a game?" Walter fired back.

He was angry. Maybe more angry than he even had a right to be…but he had gotten used to the calm quiet life of being a coffee shop owner. He had been enjoying the banality of it all. But NO, the golden boy's son had to decide to shake it all up.

Hell yes he was angry!

But he was also curious…and he still needed those answers…so it wouldn't do him any good to scare the poor kid to death.

Adam took a deep breath and a few moments to compose himself.

He was here. It was done. He _still_ had a reason for being here. And he _was_ Michael's son.

"I know it's not a game Walter. Like I said before, I had to come. For more than one reason."

Walter crossed his arms behind his head, taking in the kid's body language. He was serious. Serious the way Michael used to be and while he wanted to stay angry with him he just couldn't. Hell he was even standing there, legs apart, _looking_ like Michael. It was all just plain crazy.

"Where's Michael?" Walter asked. He had to know.

"Woodstock. Outside of Oxford…where I go to school." Adam replied.

"I know where it is!" Walter retorted.

Michael…here. My god, Walter thought. Did he know that Section had moved its base here? Did he have any idea that he and Nikita were practically breathing the same air?

It could only have been a matter of time before they ran into each other.

But good god, London was crawling with people from Section, many of whom would recognize Michael. It was also crawling with terrorists and not the preening hoodlums you saw on TV.

They could not have picked a worse place.

"We moved here a few months ago when I got accepted at Oxford. Dad hasn't been the same since. Could he have known?"

Adam asked the question that had been on his mind since the minute he had found Nikita. Had his father known when they moved here that Section was here?

It was the only thing that would make sense.

It was as if a dark cloud had descended on him soon after they got here. He broke up with his girlfriend back in New York. Holed up in his library with his computer. And the last time Adam had gone over there he would swear that he had even been wearing the same clothes as the day before.

"Why are you asking me? You seem to have all the answers."

The last thing Walter wanted to do was come between Adam and Michael.

"Walter, you knew my father. I only have the answers that he would allow me to have. As a child they were enough but as you can see I'm no longer a child."

Walter regarded him. The kid had a point. The Michael that Walter knew would have disseminated information on a need to know basis only. Clearly even that had been enough for Adam to find Nikita.

The more he thought about it the more Walter didn't believe that Michael had known ahead of time but it wouldn't have taken the man long to figure it out. All the signs were here if you knew what to be looking for.

But of course Michael wouldn't leave. He would never deny Adam the chance at that kind of an education. No. Michael would take the weight of the world as his own before he let his past affect Adam anymore.

No wonder Michael wasn't the same, probably walking around, wondering when someone might recognize him. Wondering when his front door might be broken down by someone from his past, or worse yet, when they might find Adam. Left without Section resources to help keep them safe.

Then there was knowing that Nikita could always be just one street over…

It must be driving the man insane.

Everything that went against the reason that Nikita had set them free in the first place…and it left them both _here_…back in the hornet's nest.


	5. Chapter 5

Standard disclaimer applies…

Thanks for the feedback!

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_**2 hours later…**_

There weren't a lot of options.

Walter had spent the last two hours listening to what Adam had to say, listening to the damning evidence that Michael had given him.

It would seem that Michael actually _was_ human after all. Even he had needed someone to confide in…someone to understand where he came from…someone to fill a part of the void that Nikita use to fill. That left Adam.

So after years of carefully piecing together his father's words and carefully reconstructing what he remembered from his childhood, Adam had decided he needed more. He had also decided that Nikita was the key.

Incredible.

He had started searching for her when he turned 13. In every city they moved to. Which Walter thought was too damn often for a young kid if you asked him.

Oh sure he understood Michael's motive, but still, it made him ache for them both. Even out of Section you could never be free of it. Never _feel_ free.

He understood that all too well.

It was a shame that Adam had learned **that** kind of lesson at such a young age. But, judging from what he now knew of Adam, he'd used that Section blood coursing through his veins to propel him forward.

Getting in to Oxford on a free ride at the ripe age of not quite 17 wasn't exactly what you considered "normal".

Michael must be so proud…but as Walter had guessed, he was also a man in pain.

What to do?

There were so many things to consider and too few paths. One thing was certain. They could no longer turn around and walk back the way they came. Not even him.

But what to do?

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**_That same night…across the city_**

Nikita sat back in her chair, set her napkin down in her lap and smiled at her dinner companion across the table.

"That was delicious. However did you find this place Sinclair?" She asked.

Lately they had been spending more and more evenings together…outside of Section.

She had to admit that she was surprised at how much she enjoyed his company.

When he'd first been transferred from Section 12 she'd been extremely wary of him. He was far too good looking, a full head over her, with that longish black hair and those shocking blue eyes. She didn't need another Michael around to distract all the other females. But it was his record that was even more impressive, spotless…and perfect.

She wondered about perfection like that …and of course there was the fact that she hadn't wanted a new strategist.

He smiled back. "Are you forgetting that I was born here Nik?"

Nikita laughed. "Well I guess I had. Funny isn't it? What came before becomes something to remember rather than a memory…"

His head tilted as he searched her face. He would have sworn that they were having a good time.

"I don't find that very funny at all. If anything it's a bit melancholy…was it what happened in Cairo yesterday that has you feeling this way?" He asked.

She reached across the table taking his hands in hers. "I'm sorry. I'm fine really. It was just a random thought."

He was so good at his job, too good. One of the reasons she had resisted the attraction between them for as long as she had.

Cairo _had_ affected her. How could entire caravans of school age children getting blown to bits NOT affect her?

Better yet, how could it not affect him?

But she knew the answer to that. He wasn't part of the one percent club that Walter used to talk about. It should bother her but it didn't. Not anymore. Section just wasn't the same as it used to be…with Walter gone…and Jason at Center, again…and her heart owned by someone else.

But there was still a job to do.

And in the end she knew that they saved more lives than they lost…she just never had gotten used to it nor did she want to.

No, it didn't bother her to know that she was only filling time. Well, maybe it bothered her a little but he _was_ good company. And she had been without for far too long.

Her own self-imposed exile of sorts.

It was just that there were some memories you couldn't forget…memories that kept you from wanting to form new ones to take their place…

She was gone again. Sinclair knew that look. He pictured her long slender fingers trailing along the past and those incredible eyes of hers lighting on Michael somewhere in their shared history.

He'd done his research, gathered all his Intel, prior to coming to One 2 years ago. He knew just about all there was to know about Nikita as Operations. About Nikita the woman. And about Nikita and Michael.

Of course it hadn't stopped him from falling in love with her anyway.

She'd never uttered a single word about Michael to him or to anyone else that he knew of, but he knew that was where she was right now.

It was his job to know.

However, he was willing to live with it. He was the first man she'd let in this close _since _Michael.

And after all, it wouldn't be Michael lying next to her in bed later. It wasn't Michael that got to watch her save the world with such gentle intensity.

She didn't have to love him. He loved her enough for both of them.


	6. Chapter 6

Standard disclaimer applies…

It's great to get reviews and I'm so glad you are liking this story! Thanks!

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_**6 days later in Woodstock, England**_

Michael paced his study, his jaw clenched.

Where the hell was Adam? And why wasn't he answering his cell phone?

He knew he didn't have classes on Friday and they usually spent it together, either sparring or rowing while catching up from the week.

This wasn't like Adam and Michael's senses were already on high alert.

Because stupidly he had let his guard down for a mere day or two only to discover that they had landed right in the middle of where Section had set up house. Oxford. London. Where Cold War Intelligence got its start. The irony was not lost.

Over the years he had specifically avoided cities that would suit Section's needs. But Adam also had to live his life. His academic achievement was not negotiable. This move had been unavoidable.

Standing, staring out the window at the River Glyme, he ran the scenarios through his head again and again, calculating the variables, unable to stop himself.

He'd barely slept since that day he'd decided to check out the City. It had been so many years since he'd been here…since _back then_…since Nikita and he had taken out that splinter group brokering the shipment of detagged Czech Semtex.

Sometimes it felt like yesterday, on days like today -- days when he didn't know if Adam was safe.

He _hated _not knowing.

Also bothering him was his reaction to the knowledge that Section was here. That he had felt a small thrill run through him and that it wasn't necessarily the bad kind. He shouldn't. It wasn't fair. It wasn't smart.

He _should_ have just moved them both to the other side of the planet.

But he hadn't. Instead he'd made many quick discrete trips to London, all during the week, when he was sure that Adam was in class or at an event. Meticulously he had mapped out everything. Access points. Egress points. Surveillance. Operatives…it hadn't been easy. London was full of cameras.

And that was what had really done it…seeing her blonde hair picked up by the wind as the black hood of the jacket she had been wearing slipped off. The long strands seemed to almost wave at him as he watched her descend towards what he knew had become Priority Access Point Zero.

Only important people used Access Point Zero. People like Operations. People like Nikita. His Nikita. Even from the back, at 100 yards, he would know her.

And then she had turned slightly to tuck her hair back inside the hood and from his hidden vantage point he caught a glimpse of her face. That beautiful face…the face he knew, or had known, as well as his own.

That had been his last trip to the city.

He felt like a starving man, barely trusting himself _not_ to go to her…not to risk everything she had given them selflessly.

Looking back out at the flowing river with his hands tight on the windowsill, he let out the breath he was holding.

He was stronger than this…he had to be…and sadly…not going to her, was the only thing he **_could_** give her anymore.

Downstairs, he heard a key turn and then the click of the front door opening.

Adam. Finally.

"Dad, I'm home!" Adam yelled.

Michael called down, making sure to keep his relief at Adam's presence out of his voice.

"I'm up here Adam."

It wouldn't serve any purpose for him to make Adam resent him for being over-protective. Not at this point in his life. The boy had done nothing but make Michael proud. It wasn't his fault that his father was who he was.

From the sound of the footsteps on the stairs Adam had brought a friend a home. Yes, two distinct sets.

Maybe it was that girl from his Mathematics course that he had met a few weeks ago. Maybe that was why he was late.

Instinctively Michael opened the drawer to his desk, pulled out his gun and put it in the waistband at the small of his back.

He had never been good with "maybe" and that second set of footsteps was definitely male, too long and heavy to be female.

Adam appeared in the doorway.

"Hey Dad…"

"Is someone with you Adam? I heard two sets of footsteps." Michael asked, moving around from behind the desk. If he had to move, he needed space.

"Actually that's why I'm late. I hope you don't mind."

There was something in Adam's voice. Michael moved slightly, tension in his thighs, preparing to crouch. He'd make a smaller target that way…

"No use beating around the bush, kid. Hello Michael, long time no see."

Walter stepped around Adam and moved inside the doorway.

Michael's green eyes blinked twice, looking back and forth between his son and Walter.

He leaned back against the desk…what had Adam _done_?


	7. Chapter 7

Standard Disclaimer Applies…

I love reviews! Thank you so much!

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_**Michael's Study**_

"I know what you're thinking Michael…but what's done is done. The question is what do _we_ do next."

Walter could see the wheels turning in Michael's head, see the contained anger at his son disobeying what had probably been the most important request his father had ever made. He could also smell the fear coming off of Adam. Even now, with over a decade of being out of Section, it was clear that Michael was not someone you wanted to piss off.

Michael slowly pulled the gun out from his waistband and set it down behind him, out of reach. He was angry, very angry, but he was still in the presence of those he knew that he could trust.

The gesture was not lost on Walter and he slowly walked over to where Michael stood until they were an arm's length apart.

"It's good to see you Michael." Walter admitted, pulling the man into a brief hug and patting his back like a father might.

"It's good to see you too Walter." Michael told him, allowing the embrace and then stepping back a foot while tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

A small chuckle escaped Walter. He _knew_ that gesture all too well. So the Golden Boy was a little frazzled was he? Well he could just join the club!

"Adam, I want you to go back downstairs. I need to speak to Walter. Alone."

"But Dad…"

"Adam." The firmness in Michael's voice was unmistakable.

"I'm not a child anymore and I started this." Adam said firmly.

Once again Michael walked over to the window, willing himself to calm down, his hands gripping the sill tightly. A few minutes went by until he spoke, barely above a whisper, his voice shaking.

"You have no idea what you have started."

Walter watched as the father and son faced off.

Adam toyed with the idea of pressing his father but somehow realized that now was **not **the time. Walter _had _warned him…so instead he stormed out of the room, unable to repress the instinctive jealousy at being excluded from what was clearly an important conversation.

Holding back another chuckle, Walter wondered how Michael was surviving his teenage son becoming a man. Of course Adam wasn't quite there yet, still seeing life and situations through his young eyes…the same young eyes that couldn't see the danger in what had brought them all together today.

It was safe to say that Michael was showing considerable restraint. Walter was proud of him. Michael didn't speak until he heard the door to Adam's room slam shut.

"I saw her."

There was no need to tell Walter whom he was talking about. There had always been only one "her" that mattered.

"Like father, like son…" Walter muttered under his breath.

Without hearing him, Michael continued. "It was…an anomaly…I was just gathering Intel…since it had become clear that Section had repositioned its home base here."

It was strange to hear Michael speaking Section lingo with hesitation...and yes, slight discomfort. The words broke awkwardly.

Thankfully, that was the only thing right now between them that felt awkward. It was strange how just seeing Michael took him back, the memories still fresh and crisp, easy to conjure up, rather than something he had to try and remember.

"How is she?" He asked.

Walter regarded Michael, sensing the change in him. All the anger that he had held while Adam was in the room was gone. All he cared about right now was finding out how Nikita was.

Thirteen years later and it would seem not much had changed. It might surprise some people but not Walter. But how much to tell? They still didn't have a plan of action and depending on how things went down some discretion on his part might make things easier.

"She's Sugar. You know Nikita…saving the world and everyone around her."

Michael had moved back to the window, hands behind his back now, staring out past the thick-paned glass. Did he know her? Still? Was it possible to know someone so intimately that the knowledge would always remain?

And if it was possible, where did that leave him?

"Is she happy?" He asked, needing to know the answer, knowing that Walter was the one person on earth who wouldn't lie to him about something this important. Knowing that he was quite possibly the last person left alive who knew exactly what Nikita meant to him.

Dammit! Walter cursed inwardly. He should have known that Michael wouldn't waste time with small talk.

"Sometimes. You know how it is in there Michael."

It was the most honest answer he could give and yet he knew it would never be enough.

Sometimes? Michael repeated to himself. Yes, he knew all too well what it was like _in_ _there_. For years he and Nikita had stolen moments of "sometimes".

Did this mean she was finding those moments somewhere else, with someone else,or had she just found another way to find meaning? That same meaning that had somehow eluded him with the exception of Adam.

Adam who had been the reason for every move he had made since leaving Section…Adam who was already forging his own path...

The realization hit Michael. His son, the son he had sacrificed everything for…didn't really need him anymore…the ancient words echoed in his mind, impossible to forget.

"_There'll be a time when Adam won't need me anymore."_

It was dangerous. It was stupid. And he had no right…but it wasn't going to stop him.

He had to know.

"I need to meet with her."


	8. Chapter 8

Standard Disclaimer Applies…

Sorry about the cliffy but I like to keep you guessing and interested to read more. Thanks for the reviews! It's awesome to see new reviewers as well.

* * *

_**The next day**_

_**Section – The Perch**_

Sinclair watched Nikita as she mulled over the latest in a string of terrorist attacks, the second on innocents, near Cairo.

Those Sectors were often volatile but this was becoming more than that. And it was one thing for terrorists to kill other terrorists, just like this string had begun…but this was just unnecessary bloodshed and knowing Operations, he was fairly certain that Section would soon be setting up a pre-emptive neutralization of the area.

In fact, he'd already put some of the pieces into play. It was part of his job to know what Operations wanted _before _they asked for it and he was very good at his job. With Nikita as Operations it was an intensely pleasurable task.

Each time he stood next to her in the Perch, watched her do what she had been born to do, he fell in love with her a little more.

There weren't many women in the world that wielded the power that she did…and there were even fewer who actually deserved it as she did.

Yes, her father had been a brilliant man to groom her the way he had.

Nikita turned to Sinclair, only to find him staring at her intently. There was something in his eyes sometimes that she worried about, something that reminded her of Section times and ghosts long past. It resembled an unhealthy ambition and the desire for power, more and more of it.

It reminded her of Paul…and Madeline…that intensity in his eyes, but then all strategists were power hungry. It was a direct consequence of holding so many strings and very few were able to ignore it's draw.

She had hoped Sinclair was the exception.

"I'd like to cleanse Sectors 4 and 7 before things get any worse."

Sinclair smiled at her words.

"I had thought you might. I've already begun gathering the Intel. What about Sector 11? It seems to round out that triangle nicely don't you think?" He asked.

It didn't surprise her that he'd anticipated her actions but nonetheless, each time it unnerved her. It would make it easier to decline his dinner invitation later which would be the third one this week.

He was a wonderful, considerate and passionate lover but she needed to keep a little distance between them. She knew he was in love with her just as she knew she would never return those feelings. But he was also an amazing strategist and she didn't need their time together in bed interfering with that.

She returned her eyes to the 3D map in front her.

"Yes, include Sector 11 as well. Thank you Sinclair."

He nodded at her, his signature response; a dark lock of hair falling over one eye as it usually did. It had been _that_ look that had drawn her in initially…before she'd realized that it had probably taken years to perfect. Still, he was undeniably incredibly attractive.

Her com buzzed.

"Yes?"

"Incoming communication marked "C" Operations." JB informed her from down at Com.

"Thank you JB, Give me a few and send it through." Nikita replied slightly surprised. It wasn't often she got confidential communications.

"Sinclair would you mind stepping out for a bit?" She asked him.

Sinclair straightened his shoulders but kept the smile on his face.

"Not at all Operations. I'll be in the data center when you need me."

The nod again and she was alone. Not "if" she needed him but "when"…yes, she definitely put a little more distance between them.

She opened up the channel and Walter's face popped up on her screen.

"Walter! Is everything alright?"

"No worries Sugar. I just needed to ask a favor of you."

Nikita's pulse slowed. Thank God!

"Of course Walter, anything for you."

"Can you come by tonight?"

"Well I'll see what I can do but you know how hard it can be and things are heating up in a few Sectors right now…"

"Anytime is fine Sugar, just make sure you come alone. Meaning, lose Sinclair."

Her pulse quickened again. She hadn't had a conversation like this with Walter in years and he almost never mentioned Sinclair. _Something_ was going on.

"You're sure everything's alright Walter?" She asked him again, searching his face for signs that he was speaking under duress.

"Everything's great Sugar. I just want to see you. I promise I don't have a gun to my head right now or anything else crazy like that ok?"

Nikita had to laugh as Walter turned around, putting both hands up and smiling at her. He _seemed_ like everything was ok but it was still odd, even for Walter.

"Ok Walter. I'll try to get there by 9. Will that work?"

Walter smiled at her again.

"Perfect Sugar. See you then!" And he signed off, not wanting to give her a chance to ask him any more questions.

**_At Walter's, above the Coffee Shop_**

Walter slumped back in his chair.

"I'm getting too old for this Michael." He told the younger man who now seemed far away in his own mind.

Michael hadn't expected the sound of her voice to grab him as it had; he didn't think he could speak right now without his own voice cracking.

Tonight. He would see her tonight.

A few minutes passed.

"Who is Sinclair?" Michael asked.


	9. Chapter 9

Standard disclaimer applies…

I'm sorry for the long wait. Life got in the way but I'm back! I hope all you great reviewers are still around and enjoy this chapter.

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_**That night – Walter's above the coffee shop**_

Michael paced.

His earlier conversation with Walter had left him frustrated and a little insecure about the evening if he admitted it. It wouldn't change his intentions…but it wasn't exactly how he'd pictured the set up of this moment. And he'd imagined this moment so many times that it was hard to reconcile the difference between the two images.

Nikita was involved with someone…someone at Section. Not someone. Sinclair.

He let out the breath he'd been holding.

Sinclair. It was a pompous name.

It helped a little that Walter didn't really like the man. It didn't help that he held the position next to Nikita's. The position that allowed him to be close to her constantly, allowed him to work his way into her life, her schedule and worst possibility, her emotions. He held the exact position that Michael wanted, though preferably outside of Section.

There could be no compromise at this point in their lives. This was an all or nothing moment. Sinclair, not the terrorists, not Section, was the enemy he most needed to worry about right now.

And it was a dangerous position to be in because the man had the power and resources to destroy everything Michael had worked so hard for the last 13 years. He had the capability to put Adam at risk.

Had he known about Sinclair prior to having Walter ask Nikita to come would he still have made the request?

Returning to pacing with his hands behind his back, he knew the answer. Of course he would have. He still believed, believed in the words he and Nikita had exchanged so long ago.

And he wanted to believe that she did too, Sinclair or no Sinclair.

He checked his watch again, just a little after 9 o'clock. Nikita should be here soon.

His hand ran subconsciously through his hair, tucking a stray strand behind one ear. They were both older now and he wondered how he would look to Nikita with the gray at his temples and a few more worry lines. He was thankful that he had kept up his Section workouts. His body was older but it didn't really look it and he still had the strength to lift Nikita up against a wall and take her mouth the way he wanted to.

How many nights had he laid in bed dreaming of that exact thing?

Thinking back to the day when he'd seen her in the city, he wasn't surprised by how little she seemed to have changed. Still heart-wrenchingly beautiful…still lithe and graceful…still able to make him strain against his pants without ever trying.

The nervousness he felt was quickly being replaced by excitement since Walter had gone down a few minutes earlier to wait for her in the shop.

He still loved her. All this time that had passed…he hoped she still felt the same.

**_Below – In the shop_**

"Hi Walter!" Nikita exclaimed brightly as she came through the door. She was happy to see that he was in one piece and that all her worrying on the way over was for nothing.

Walter handed her a cup of her favorite, soy latte with extra foam.

"Hey Sugar, thanks for coming."

"So what's the occasion Walter? Why all the secrecy?" She asked, still wondering what had driven him to actions that were snapshots from the distant past. Their conversation earlier had brought back the memories of when he'd been hiding communiqué for she and Michael…god, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Just one of the warm memories that still made her smile.

"Just thought we'd catch up on old times. It's been awhile." He responded, turning away for a minute so she wouldn't catch the tiny grin that he couldn't hold off his face.

"Are you going soft on me?" This was what she loved about Walter.

"HA! Have I ever been anything but?" He laughed. "Let's go upstairs." He told her, not wanting to keep Michael waiting any longer.

"I'm fine down here." She replied, taking a sip of her latte.

"Well I'm not! These old bones need my soft chair. Come on." He took her coffee cup from her and let her head up in front of him. He didn't want her spilling a perfectly good latte all over that white jacket she was wearing when she caught sight of Michael.

"Whatever you say Walter."

Nikita was surprised to find that the door was already open. Usually she had to wait for Walter to disengage his Section worthy security system.

She stepped through the door, teasing him.

"Getting a little lax on me Wal…"

Her voice stopped.

It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. Was it?

She put her hand out to steady herself on the wall. _Michael_…

"Hello Nikita."


	10. Chapter 10

Standard disclaimer applies…

Oh wow! Thanks for the wonderful response and lovely reviews. You are all so great and make me want to write more and post more often.

_**

* * *

**__**Cont.**_

Walter smiled broadly, silently closed the front door, engaged the security and left the two lovers alone.

"Guess I should call Maria and see if I can crash at her place tonight" he said under his breath.

When Nikita found her voice, it sounded smaller and far away, almost like she was watching things unfold from the outside, floating above as if in a dream.

"Michael…"

She found herself walking slowly towards him, more slowly than she would have imagined she was capable of at this moment. Her eyes searched his for the answer to the only question that mattered.

13 years. She felt wetness trail down one of her cheeks.

Did she dare hope that he had come back for her?

All this time and still the longing…it had never left her…never quietly un-sewn itself from her side one night while she was sleeping. Somewhere along the line she had just accepted it, accepted her fate as she had so many years ago. Her heart and body would always only long for Michael, belong to Michael.

And here he was, once again, standing before her just inches away.

He took her hands in his, looking down at them, rubbing his fingers along hers.

His eyes glistened as well. Hope flared within her.

Michael instinctively tried to hold back the emotions threatening to burst his chest open. And while he'd gotten even better at that particular skill over the years…standing here with Nikita's hands in his and seeing the tell-tale glistening on her cheeks, he didn't want to hold it back anymore. He didn't think he could.

"Adam…" He began.

"He's alright isn't he?" Nikita interrupted in her usual style in a concerned voice.

"He doesn't need me anymore." He finished, staring into her eyes, hoping that they could just stop talking. Hoping that she remembered.

Nikita's mouth opened slightly, the memory of the train station always just at the surface, never something to remember. It lived in her skin it seemed, his breath still warm on her ear as he'd whispered to her way back then.

"_I love you."_

She wanted to drink him in, here and now…praying that this moment wouldn't end as that one had.

Their eyes connected and she felt that she could see inside of him just as she had been able to before.

"I love you." She told him, lifting one hand to his cheek, her eyes never leaving his.

Michael turned his head and pressed his lips to her hand before returning to her gaze.

"I love you." He replied, his voice soft but strong, not the mere whisper from the memory.

Their mouths came together as never before. The years of waiting, of longing, swallowing them whole in a bright instantaneous flare of desire. Destiny marking its' territory. Their bodies pressed together so closely that their nerve-endings seemed to connect, sending pure energy flowing through both of them

"Michael…" Nikita whispered against his lips that were joined with hers.

"Nikita…" Michael responded, claiming her mouth again, moving her over against the wall where he could live out the image that had tortured him all these years.

She let out a gasp and then a moan as he pushed her against the wall, lifting her against him.

"Nikita, Nikita, Nikita…" he whispered against her neck as his mouth made its way over all the tender places he'd missed for so long…

**_Outside the Coffee Shop_**

From his vantage point at the corner, Sinclair watched Walter lock up the shop and leave. His current Intel indicated that Walter would head to one of two places, Maria's or the Irish pub on the corner where the owner was also Section. Yes, Walter had retired but you were never, _not _Section. It was a wise choice that he kept to his own kind in his personal life.

Like he and Nikita had.

The real question on his mind was why was Walter leaving.

He'd watched Nikita enter the coffee shop not long ago. Watched them close up shop and then head upstairs and could see that the lights were still on up there. Nikita had not just left with Walter and the probability that she would use a different egress route was highly unlikely.

So the question remained, why had Walter left and Nikita remained?

It hadn't been hard to retrieve her earlier communiqué and after listening to it, he'd been deeply disturbed. There was no plausible reason that Walter would request that she "lose Sinclair" and this scenario had not presented itself to date. That meant that something had changed.

He needed to know what.

His brow furrowed and he pushed the anger that had stirred in him earlier back under the surface. It wouldn't suit his purposes now to be angry.

There was the possibility that the old man was finally "losing it" and that there was nothing to worry about at all but he didn't believe it. His intuition was telling him otherwise.

He hated waiting...but his father had been a stern teacher when it came to learning patience and he was thankful for it as he waited for Nikita.


	11. Chapter 11

Standard disclaimer applies.

Please read and review - I need feedback and I love to hear what you like.

* * *

**_Outside Walter's – 3 hours later_**

Sinclair was a patient man but it would seem even he had a limit.

The lights had remained on. Walter had not returned. Nikita had not left. He could not imagine what she would still be doing there at close to 1 in the morning. It was obvious that he couldn't go knock on the door. That would shatter the trust he had built with her, the trust that had been difficult to cultivate…the trust he needed to make her see that they were destined to be together.

He was used to thinking out of the box. He was absolutely certain that there would be something back at Section that would require her immediate attention – no matter how he had to get it.

Maybe he just needed to have more faith in his ability to handle whatever situation came his way. Yes, that was it. This would all turn out just fine…when hadn't it?

And with that last thought he turned into the shadows, away from the view of the window that he had watched for the last few hours.

**_At Michael's – outside Woodstock, London_**

She stretched her limbs, amazed at the last few hours that had transpired.

Truth be told, she'd thought that these moments were the things that only dreams were made of. It was all too easy to forget how to believe in _possibility_ in Section…forgot that sometimes, just sometimes, dreams came true.

Turning over to stare at Michael sleeping next to her, she prayed that this wasn't some memory induced terrorist stunt that she just couldn't remember…yet. She prayed that it was real, that he was real. That she wouldn't wake up somewhere cold and sterile or worse.

As if reading her mind, Michael awakened and turned to place his palm possessively on her naked stomach.

"I was afraid that I was dreaming." He admitted, placing a kiss on her collarbone.

Nikita smiled. This was definitely a Michael that she could get used to. He reminded her of how he'd been after the mission that had gone terribly wrong with Perez where he'd lost his memory and had told her he loved her…right before she'd had to bring his memory back, bring _him_ back to Section reality.

As hard as she tried she couldn't keep the scowl off her face.

"You're thinking of Perez aren't you?" He offered.

Turning closer to him, bringing their bodies in full contact, she found herself amazed.

"How is it that you still know me after all these years?" She questioned.

It wasn't that she was upset, quite the contrary, but my god…all these years she'd longed for this…longed for him…longed to be known in the way that only Michael could ever know her.

Could it be as simple as this? Finding the one person that you could never lose, regardless of time or space or anything.

Michael smiled. It was as if the years had disappeared. People didn't change only the circumstances, the situations did, and he was thankful that his gut wasn't failing him now.

"We know each other Nikita. We were meant to be together. It isn't something that has or needs an explanation…and I only really figured that out in the last 48 hours. I'm only thankful that I'm not too late. I'm not too late am I?"

Nikita kissed his shoulder, unable to look him the eye. He was wrong, not in the large sense, but things _did_ change. Things changed every time you blinked.

"Michael…" She began.

"I know about Sinclair." He stated, wrapping his arm around her tighter.

Nikita started to pull away. It was too much that he knew about Sinclair...but he wouldn't let her, pulling her closer, crushing her to his chest.

"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters except this, as long as this is what you want Nikita. It's been a long time. I never expected you to remain…celibate."

The words left his mouth softly…like he didn't really know what to say. And he was right, she thought, nothing matters but this and what we do with it here and now. How many people got second chances? Or third? Or fourths? Long ago she had lost track of how many times they had lost each other only to end up back here, together.

"I'm sorry." She said. Nothing else could possibly convey all the emotions going through her head and heart right now.

"There's no reason…I was with someone just before Adam and I came to London. I had to break it off when I discovered that Section was here…" He revealed.

"It's ok Michael. Everything is going to be all right now. You could never be too late." She answered him with everything she had inside, knowing now that he was still able to hear what she couldn't convey with mere words.

It was true. This was the final chance for them…everything in her knew it and she knew he felt the same. In the end, it was the very least they deserved.

**_Back at Section in the Perch_**

"I need to locate Operations." Sinclair demanded.

JB looked at their head strategist unsure of what to do. Operations had explicitly told him to notify her **only** in the event of Section emergency. It was clear that a demand from her strategist did not warrant an emergency.

"I'm sorry Sir but I can't do that." He told him.

"Why not?" Sinclair asked, his voice full of masked fury.

"Orders Sir…from Operations." JB replied, praying that he didn't end up in abeyance.

"I see. That will be all." Sinclair told him and waited until he heard the soft hiss of the door shutting.

"DAMMIT!"

Sinclair opened a channel to Medical.

"Get me Dr. White. I need a tracker accessed immediately."


	12. Chapter 12

Standard disclaimer applies.

Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews. I apologize for the long wait between updates. And I do know that "snarly" is not a word. I just don't care because I like it.

* * *

**_Michael's – Late the next morning_**

Nikita was amazed and more than a little worried. Adam had found her and it hadn't been by accident…he'd actually been searching for her, knowing at least some of the risk that his actions posed.

She should **not** have been that easy to find but that was something she would deal with later.

It was interesting too though, in that it reminded her of something Michael would have done during the times when he had let his emotions override his Section training.

And from the pictures she'd seen, Adam was the best of both Michael and Elena, a heartbreaker to be sure.

She was proud of his accomplishments, proud of Michael for being exactly who she'd known he was. It made the sacrifice worth it. All these years without contact she had hoped that it had been worth it, that it hadn't been in vain. It felt good to finally know.

Nikita smiled and felt warmth spread through her. All those holes that had been left in her when the two of them had walked away hand in hand at the train station were slowly closing. Already new memories were filling in the spaces that had lain empty for so long. She was remembering what it felt like to feel whole again…

_If only it could all be this simple, she thought._

"What are you thinking about Nikita?" Michael asked, sensing a change in her.

As much as he wished they could just stay here forever, freeze this perfect moment of them having coffee and reading the paper with Nikita wearing his favorite sweater…he knew it was time to figure out their next move.

He knew Sinclair would be. He was half-surprised that Section had not come barreling through his door already.

Nikita reached under the table to rest her hand on his thigh and Michael stifled the urge to take her back to his bed.

"I feel happy Michael. There were moments over the years when…"

He put his finger against her lips stopping her.

She kissed his finger softly, and pressed her cheek to his hand, closing her eyes.

Michael was right of course; talking about it wouldn't change anything, although he knew it was a part of her nature to do just that. However for now they needed to stay in the present, stay focused on what they had to do. The past would catch up with them soon enough, that was a fact that neither of them needed to voice out loud to know its' truth.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, sorry that they couldn't take more time right now. That they couldn't just crawl back under the covers and pretend the outside world didn't exist. But that had never been their path, their destiny, and the one thing they had always stayed true to was embracing who they were, flaws and all.

"We need to think about the best way to go about this…how to keep Adam safe." She said, never breaking eye contact.

During the night they had made some decisions, hard decisions. She couldn't shake the apprehension that they had left in her. So much could wrong. She should have been used to that aspect of her life by now. Safe belonged to other lives.

Section was still an animal. Yes, she had tamed some of it, had taken the truly snarly parts out, but what they **did** could not be changed. And even after all these years, she could not walk away from it, even if she wanted to…which she did not. That was a realization that she'd acknowledged a few years ago. Only now, with Michael across the table from her, did it make it harder to accept. But Michael understood, just as she'd known he would.

He would have to come back to Section.

They couldn't hide him…them…forever…and it was the only way to keep Adam safe. Adam already knew about Section, which put him at greater risk by disassociation then not. With Michael back in Section they could protect him, just like they had before when he'd been young.

It wasn't perfect. There were too many variables that no Sim in the world could calculate correctly. But just like safe, perfect was a luxury they didn't have.

There was still Sinclair to contend with…and god knew Nikita wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

And there were the other operatives, their reactions. But they still talked about Michael… in the dojo, in the halls, whispers during transport…he was the man that the Section legends were made of. She was confident that his reappearance would be a huge asset to Section in this regard.

It would also give Oversight the reason they needed to NOT cancel him – Nikita's most pressing concern. His presence would be the morale boost that Section desperately needed.

If Michael was willing to come back, willing to give up his freedom, then what they were doing here **had** to be worth it, **had **to be right. This was the message that they would need to get across. And there hadn't been anyone even remotely like Michael since his disappearance thirteen years ago.

It _almost_ made her believe in Divine timing. Section needed him now more than ever.

And so did she…so did she.


	13. Chapter 13

Standard disclaimer applies.

Yeah! So many nice reviews and encouragement! Thanks so much. I hope this last part isn't too dark plus i'm experimenting with bold etc... Let me know. Keep in mind that I like happy endings.

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**_The Perch_**

Woodstock.

He knew it well…but he couldn't think of one single reason in the world that Nikita would or why she would be there right now.

His initial reaction to this news had made him want to organize a team to retrieve her. Thankfully he had quickly dismissed that idea. Operations didn't like to be second-guessed or man handled especially when she had specifically asked not to be contacted. If he were going to retrieve her he would need a very good reason and_ that_ he did not have.

Unfortunately there was nothing to suggest that she was in danger either. Her signal was moving around within normal range and frequency, the likely movements of someone inside a home.

But who's home? This was the burning question in Sinclair's mind currently.

So instead of sending out a team, he enlisted a black op to do a little recon for him.

Carter owed him more than a few discrete favors so he wasn't worried about Operations finding out. Carter was well aware of how he dealt with traitors.

Now he just needed to wait for his report back. He refused to think about what might actually be in that report. It had been a long time since Operations had gone dark…probably not since…NO! He wasn't going to think about it.

He just needed to wait, something he seemed to be doing a lot of lately.

He stood behind the glass in the perch, arms crossed, looking down on his world. There wasn't anything he couldn't get when he put his mind to it and Nikita would be no exception. He wanted to be more than just an occasional bedfellow and strategist. He wanted it all. And nothing, no one, would stand in the way of him getting what he wanted.

* * *

**_Woodstock – Michael's home_**

"What do you mean you are GOING BACK!" Adam screamed.

_**This wasn't how it was supposed to go! He didn't want this! All he'd wanted was something more than what they'd had…something more than a memory...but not this…never this…old images began crowding behind his eyes, so he squeezes them shut trying to push them away. But he knows it's futile because they always came back. **_

_**His mother dies. The grey-haired man dies. The bad men pull him down dark corridors, leave him on cold hard floors…and then the bullets start to fly. He feels them pierce his skin, rip through him, the searing pain so real that he can't believe that it didn't really happen…and he wonders how he knows what to feel in this situation and why the feeling doesn't leave him when he wakes up. This is the part he's never told his father. The part he doesn't want to admit out loud. The nightmares don't stop when he opens his eyes.**_

Michael's eyes never left Adam's. He had known he would be upset but he hadn't expected this…

"It's the only way to keep you safe Adam." Michael told him, knowing that he couldn't fully understand why this was true.

"And it's the only way for Nikita and I to be together." He continued. There would be no more half-truths, lies by omission…they couldn't afford that in Section under these circumstances.

It was their time too and Adam needed to accept that.

Nikita knew how hard this conversation was for Michael. They'd never calculated that this would one day become part of the plan. They had never talked about a plan at all. They were doing what they did best, adapting. She hoped that Adam had inherited that same skill from his father. He would need it in the days to come.

She walked over to where Adam stood and laid a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, now flooded with tears, and looked at her.

_**He had done this. He would never be able to forgive himself.**_

She put her arms around him and he folded into her, allowing the guilt of what he'd done to engulf him and deep sobs to rack his body.

He barely heard the rest of what his father was saying.

Protocol. Section resources. Enemies. School. Trackers. Training.

They were just words to him right now. They didn't_ mean_ anything.

_Nothing_ meant anything.

Adam didn't know how much time had passed when the last shudder left him but he could tell by their faces that it was time to go.

**_For the first time in forever he didn't know what his life looked like and the only thing he could find within himself that did mean something was the hatred he felt for Section because of it._**


	14. Chapter 14

Standard disclaimer applies.

I'd really like some feedback from all you wonderful reviewers! Happy holidays!

* * *

**_Access Point Zero - London_**

The communication with Oversight had gone better than Nikita had expected. She wasn't foolish enough to think they would approach Michael and Adam with welcome open arms but they didn't seem as surprised at the situation as she would have anticipated.

That part bothered her…and she considered it as the panel in front of her slid open and she pressed her palm against it.

Her pulse had begun to beat double-time as they approached this point of no return. She was sure the access files would show that, show them her fear in that pulse that she couldn't hide due to modern technology and body signatures.

It was just this crossing over…all the memories of bringing Michael back, again and again and vice versa.

Except now they had Adam with them, the stakes unbelievably high, Adam…who had not said a word since they had left the house. She was worried about him and she knew Michael was worried too but right now it would be better all around if Adam _weren't _doing a lot of talking. Better not to give them any more ammunition than they already have…Nikita thought.

There was enough time for more talk later.

She hadn't notified Sinclair. She didn't need to. She was Operations. He would have to do as he was ordered to and if that meant accepting a Section One with Michael and Adam in it then he would need to do just that. He would do it or she would have him transferred or cancelled, whichever his behavior warranted.

Inwardly she sighed, higher stakes indeed. Nikita straightened her shoulders. She wasn't ruthless. She wasn't like Paul. But she wasn't stupid either.

Operatives that couldn't adapt didn't belong in Section. The unfortunate thing was that they couldn't let them belong anywhere else either. Sinclair knew this. She was confident that he would make the right choice.

"Are you ready?" She asked them, squeezing Michael's hand and putting a protective arm around Adam.

Adam didn't respond but he didn't pull away either. They needed to do this together. Thankfully he seemed to understand this regardless of his anger.

Michael looked in her eyes and squeezed her hand back.

"Yes."

**_Inside Section One_**

It wasn't a moment that any of the operatives would forget any time soon, especially the ones who knew exactly what they were witnessing.

The image of Operations walking into Com with Michael Samuelle on one side of her and an unknown young man, the spitting image of Michael Samuelle, on her other side was a sight to behold. The three of them walked right through, not stopping, their heads held high, bodies close enough to show the solidarity between them. No one would have dared interrupt them, not on their life. Maybe if Walter had still been around…maybe then.

History was being made. And the future was already changing. No one needed to say it. They were all thinking it.

**_At Oversight_**

But all the while the Section ears picked up the whispers… behind closed doors, down corridors and during missions, cataloging them for further action, analysis and introspection by those wondering why they shouldn't just take the 3 of them out of play right now. Wondering if they were making a severe error in judgment by letting them walk back into Section like they owned it.

"_Did you see her face? She looked happy…"_

"_Michael still looks the same doesn't he?"_

"_Is that his son?" _

"_I heard she let them free."_

"_I wonder how Sinclair is going to react."_

"_She touched his arm, did you see that?"_

"_I heard they always loved each other."_

"_I wonder what they've been doing out there all this time."_

"_The young one is very handsome, don't you think? Who is he?"_

"_What role do you think they are going to play?"_

"_Why would Michael come back?"_

"_Why would anyone come back?"_

"_Did you see Sinclair's face up in the perch right before he dimmed it? Pure evil."_

"_I heard they are staying in Operation's personal quarters…"_

"_I wonder what Oversight is going to do."_

"_I wonder what Oversight is going to do…"_

"_I wonder what Oversight is going to do…."_

And it was this last bit of chatter that had them most concerned. Because they didn't have an answer…they didn't know what they were going to do. All these years they had been monitoring…watching…waiting…knowing this exact moment was inevitable, even welcomed at times when Section seemed in dire need of hero.

How many times had they almost played that hand? Considered forcing the situation only to decide that the time hadn't yet come or that some things, some people, might be better left for dead.

It was an extremely risky course of action after all – it was impossible to know if it would work out the way they wanted it to. And what they wanted would affect everyone…even those that didn't know that they existed.

They were trying to cement the future. They could only hope that they didn't end up at the bottom of the ocean, the victim of their own devices.

Interesting…that in the end it had been the boy. It provided all the evidence they could possibly need that no matter how long you ran, how far you traveled, you could never escape the place where you had come from, the place where it all began. Some roots simply went too deep.

But whatwere they going to do? How would they answer that hot burning question?

_What is Oversight going to do?_

Mr. Jones just didn't know.


	15. Chapter 15

Standard disclaimer applies.

Thank you so much for the reviews! Happy 2007!

* * *

_**The Perch**_

Sinclair calculated that he had less than 20 seconds before they reached him. He would need every nanosecond of that time in order to compose himself.

Truly, there had been a part of him that had just _known_ that Michael Samuelle was to blame for this sudden change in Operation's behavior. His gut had told him so and he should have known to obey the instincts that had rarely failed him over the years.

He had to admit that he _was_ surprised that they had brought Adam in with them.

Did they really believe that they could keep Section's dirty sticky fingers off of him now that he was on the inside?

It seemed very unlike something Nikita, not Operations, would be willing to risk. He would have to figure that in to his future profiling.

Maybe if he'd insisted on dinner…but he swept the thought away. Second-guesses and regrets were NOT something he allowed himself. They were two of the most important lessons that new recruits learned if they wanted to survive, however, he had learned them long before his recruitment into Section.

The memory brought shadows behind his eyes.

15 seconds, Sinclair, he told himself.

_Michael. _

His body burned with hatred and disdain just thinking the name and now he had to face the man. Technically Michael outranked him and the thought made him clench his fists tightly.

But Michael wasn't stupid. He would intuitively know that they were a threat to each other, rank or not.

Nikita wasn't stupid either. It was clear that she had told Michael the more intimate details of their relationship or she would not be bringing him back in such a bold blatant fashion. She was making a statement in that gesture, a statement that he was meant to understand. He had to give her credit but it still wouldn't sway his convictions.

It would be interesting to see how they both played it. Usually Sinclair liked games but this one he was not looking forward to and he had no desire to spar with Nikita. It was only Michael he was after.

10 seconds.

His father's words echoed in his mind.

"_The rules are quite simple. Win. At any cost." _

Putting his game face on, he dimmed the perch and waited for his opponent.

**_Parallel time - In Adam's mind_**

He couldn't remember if he'd ever been this nervous.

Sweaty palms. Sweaty pits. And then there was the lump in his throat that he couldn't seem to swallow. They probably thought he wasn't talking because he was still angry but it was only half true. In truth, he was pretty sure that if he tried to speak he would either become violently ill or his mouth would move but no sound would come out like something out of a horror movie.

You needed air to be able to speak right? Well he hadn't taken a breath in longer than should have been humanly possible.

And he was still angry but not at them. No, he had only himself to blame for this.

They had both told him not to look around as they walked through Section, just keep close and keep your eyes straight ahead. Don't show any interest and whatever you do, don't stare at anyone or anything.

He'd kept his word so far but that didn't mean he didn't catch glimpses out of the corners of his eyes.

_This_ was where his father had lived and breathed? In this grey cold sterile place?

At least he now understood his father's penchant for black clothing. He hardly saw anything else. Nikita's white jacket was like a full moon in a pitch-black sky. He had a feeling that it wasn't the only way she stood out and made her presence unable to deny. He was staring ahead but he saw the respect and deference on the faces in front of him.

He also saw the fear.

Reconciling the Nikita he knew with what his father had told him about what Operatives and Operations duties required wasn't easy.

Screw easy! It didn't seem possible at all!

He couldn't picture his father or Nikita pulling a trigger and killing another human being…or ordering others to.

All the images that he'd held of Section in his mind before seemed cartoon-like now. This was why people went to see scary movies…it was just fiction…reality was only thing that could be truly terrifying.

And the man standing behind the glass above them sent a shiver down his spine…something about the look in his eyes right before the glass panes had gone dark.

That was definitely the kind of man he would need to watch his back around…and Nikita's…and his fathers.

He may have screwed this up but he would do whatever he had to in order to keep his family safe. He had inherited more than just his father's pretty face.

_A new legacy was about to begin…he would show them he was his father's son after all. _


	16. Chapter 16

Standard disclaimer applies.

I apologize for the long delay between chapters and I hope my trusty reviewers will still be around to give me that great feedback I love. There are references in this chapter to the episode "Imitation of Death" for those that are interested. Enjoy!

* * *

**_A few weeks later – Section One_**

Nikita watched as Adam worked with Jason at Com. She had been surprised when he had shown up a few days after Michael and Adams' return and even more surprised by the reason he had given her.

"Figured you could use another set of eyes to watch your back." He had drawled slowly in typical Jason fashion.

She'd tilted her head, searching for the lies in his eyes, but in the end all that she could conjure up were dusty old images of Birkoff and the feeling that somehow they always seemed to end up back in the same place again.

When hadn't she needed another set of eyes to watch her back?

Even she couldn't deny the truth in his words but that wasn't what was bothering her. Someone from Oversight had _let_ him come back. And they never did anything unless it was a part of some greater plan.

So what were they planning this time?

She would have to file it away to discuss later with Michael.

It was strangely beautiful and a bit sad to watch Adam. He'd taken to Section in a way that was purely instinctive. He hadn't even balked at taking a leave from Oxford or having to lie to the small group of friends he'd made there about a family emergency.

Nikita smiled inside…it wasn't a big lie really…in reality it was mostly true, just not in the conventional sense.

She and Michael had even compared his progress with his own file. The results had been so similar that it was almost statistically impossible.

It would seem her old "friend" Chernov had been right all along. Everything was in the genes. The thought made her shudder at the memory and what she had found later in the bowels of Section. There were still many nights she lay awake wondering what happened to those children she _knew_ she had seen…_their _children. All the clearance in the world and she'd never been able to find that answer.

She probably didn't want to know anyway, Nikita thought. Shaking herself back to the present, her thoughts turned to Michael.

He also had just stepped right back into his Section role but with distinct subtle differences. His patented blank stare had relaxed somewhat, even among new recruits. It was amazing how revered he still was after all this time. Seasoned operatives would seek out his counsel on mission profiles or Intel situations. Even the energy around Section had changed…it was charged and more positive…and she knew without a doubt that Michael was the reason.

Their leadership together was a powerful thing. It didn't even matter that he technically reported to her, although she hoped that would change if her recommendations were accepted. They were equals and their positions should reflect that. Her Intel was his Intel. Her quarters were no longer Operation's quarters – they were theirs. They made independent decisions, never questioning the other or needing to.

And no one so far, including Oversight, had questioned them. Even Sinclair, most surprisingly Sinclair, had seemingly adapted overnight.

Nikita tapped her fingers on the ledge of the Perch.

Things had never been this easy, this smooth, in Section. She couldn't help feeling that something was about to happen…almost as if something in her was waiting for it.

She hated that feeling.

The door slid open and Michael entered, making Nikita forget her previous line of thought.

"Dim." Michael requested, the Perch going dark to those down below.

In past years everyone would have worried that something dire was about to happen, that someone was about to be put into abeyance…or worse. They all knew better now. The invisible winks between Operatives. Adam resisting rolling his eyes at what he knew was going on up there but secretly thrilled to see his father so happy and alive again.

Nikita waited for Michael to close the distance between them, then reached one hand up to touch his cheek.

_These_ were the moments that made it all worth it now.

"Hi." She said, smiling, noticing the fire in his eyes and the way they were riveted on her lips.

"I thought you might like a break." He replied as his mouth claimed hers and he pressed her back against the cool glass.

**_In Munitions_**

Sinclair didn't even pause in his action as he noticed the Perch go dark.

No, it wouldn't do for anyone to have any ammunition against him with regard to the new team leading Section One. He had always been privy to the whispers going around. He knew he had never been a popular person and now that he lacked the power he held previously, he needed to bide his time.

He glanced over at Com only to find Adam's gaze fixated on him. It was the same look the boy had been sending his way since practically the first day after he had arrived; determined, hostile and full of the distrust that he obviously wanted him to see.

Without acknowledging it, Sinclair looked away, turning his attention back to the gear he was checking for the mission loading.

It would seem that the Golden Boy's child had the same instincts as his father, definitely a worthy adversary.

No matter, they may have thought they had won…but the games hadn't even begun.

**_At Oversight_**

Mr. Jones was exceptionally pleased at how things were progressing. So far everything was going as planned.

Section One had always been exemplary in their performance but the numbers they were producing now were just staggering. And Adam's induction could not be going any better than it was. Sending Jason back had been a brilliant move.

He clasped his hands together, reviewing the most recent report from his mole.

Nothing had happened, _yet_. But Sinclair was going to be a problem.

A problem they could not afford.

It left the bitter taste of disappointment in his mouth. Clearly, it would have to be handled personally. He'd always hoped that it wouldn't come to this but the future was at stake…and, after all, he had a reputation to uphold.

It was important to clean up your own messes.

He pressed the Com button.

"I'll be leaving for Section One in two days - arrival notification only. That will be all."


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Don't any of it and this is just for fun

Archive: Sure but let me know where

I apologize for the long wait between Chapters and I hope that some of you are still out there, willing to read and review. I'm going to try to update all my stories over the next few days. Thanks for R &R!!!

* * *

_**2 days later – The White Room**_

Sinclair sat strapped to the hard metal chair in the middle of the room, stuffing down the panic inside of him.

He had never been in this position and had no idea why he was right now. No idea at all.

He'd behaved perfectly since Michael's return. Well, almost perfectly. There had been the little bit that he'd engineered in a recent mission that had left more operatives dead than there should have been. But they had all been close to abeyance anyway and the record on missions of late had been exceeding his own - he couldn't have that.

And then there had been the fight between Adam and a newer operative in the dojo. But again, it would be impossible for anyone to know that he had been behind that.

So why was he here?

Had Operations found out that he had read her private communications? Did she know that he had followed her?

The questions running around inside his own mind were driving him mad. It just didn't seem like her style to have him put in here only to wait for hours. There was no clock but he was certain it had been at least 3 hours. His legs and arms were getting numb and he desperately needed to relieve himself.

He had a new appreciation for the people that he had put in this chair, right before he'd put a bullet through their head. Barely any of them had begged for mercy…

Would he have to?

The door to the white room opened slowly. Sinclair put his best face on and waited to see who it was.

"Father?" He whispered, feeling the air leave his lungs. It couldn't be…

The operative at the door spoke. "Mr. Jones, do you wish us to stay?"

"No. I'll take it from here."

Sinclair's mind reeled. His father was dead!

He had died in a fiery plane crash right before being able to watch him graduate from college. This had to be some twisted Section game. It was hard for him to fathom that even Nikita would be this cruel. So cruel as to bring back the father he had loved and hated with equal intensity.

"Hello Sinclair. I would imagine you're surprised to see me after all this time."

"It isn't you. This is a game…a Section game…the kind I would manufacture. Tell whoever is pulling your strings that I won't tolerate it. I deserve better treatment than this for my years of service!" Sinclair turned away, refusing to look at the imposter.

That is until he felt the cold sharp blade at his neck press expertly against his throbbing pulse.

Slowly he turned, careful not to move in such a way that he might push the blade even deeper than it already was. He could feel the small drop of blood weeping out of the tiny wound already.

He didn't dare to speak. He just waited, staring into the eyes of his worst nightmare come true, waiting for it to speak.

"You deserve nothing. Everything you have has been because of me…and it would seem that you lack even the little regard for that. I had such high hopes for you son. I had truly expected you to follow the path I carved out for you, starting at such a young age. _You_ were supposed to be sharing those quarters with Nikita. _You_ were supposed to be leading her hand in the direction that Section needs to go. True, maybe I underestimated the bond between her and Michael Samuelle. Maybe we all did…but YOU should have been able to break it. The same way that I broke you and then rebuilt you to where you are today. I can't think of a greater disappointment or embarrassment than to have been put in this position. Such a simple task really Sinclair. Pathetic. I would have thought from all of our lessons growing up that you would have mastered the single most important rule – to win at all cost."

The blade moved away. Sinclair fought back the urge to both cry and spit at his father's face.

His whole life had been a charade of the highest order. He laughed, the bile rising up.

His father's eyes blazed and he could see him fighting the urge to slit his own son's throat.

"You. You are Mr. Jones…" He muffled out between sick small laughs that bordered on sobs. It baffled his mind. All this time, his father, had been close enough for arms reach.

He wanted to hug him. He wanted to kill him. And he was in no position to do either. He was just a pawn…just a pawn.

"I'm not sure what to do with you really. The embarrassment is completely unacceptable. Mr. Jones having to leave his safe haven to clean up his own family mess. Do YOU KNOW how that looks?" His father whispered in a deadly gentle voice in his ear.

"Everything I've done has been for you…" Sinclair began speaking but was interrupted by the blade once again at this throat, pressing against his windpipe; he could feel a small steady stream of blood begin to flow down his neck.

"NO! Everything you did has been for you. You're a selfish boy. You always have been." His father snarled, pressing the blade higher.

The door opened with a strong whoosh and Nikita stormed in.

"Stop this at once!" She demanded, hands on her hips, eyes shooting daggers and two rather large security men behind her.

Mr. Jone's stepped back, regarding her, wiping the blade against Sinclair's black jacket.

"Operations. I do apologize for the last minute visit but this is my mess to clean up. It would seem that my son is not the material that I thought he was. That must be remedied."

Nikita looked at Sinclair's eyes. They had an empty glaze over them and she wondered what had been said before she had come in. She had definitely never seen him look defeated, but this was even worse. He looked…broken.

"No. Sinclair belongs to Section One. His cancellation is not negotiable. He's been an excellent operative."

And she meant it. Michael or not, she wouldn't allow Sinclair to be tossed aside like rubbish on the streets.

"Who said anything about cancellation? But do you know what he's been up to lately Operations? Do you? Let's see…the second botched mission in Cairo…a little matter between two operatives in the dojo…and then there's the reading of your very own private communications, not to mention having you tagged and tailed. I can't imagine that you were you aware of all that? But then you've had other things on your mind lately, haven't you?"

The underlying threat in his words simmered between them. Later, Nikita thought, later she would deal with that.

She turned back to look at Sinclair, searching for signs that his betrayal wasn't true, but there were none.

"Why?" She asked him, straining to keep the hurt out of her voice.

"I love you Nikita! I've always loved you. We were meant to be together!" Sinclair squeaked out in a voice that she didn't recognize.

How had she not seen how damaged he really was? And then there was the matter of his being Mr. Jones son…my god. But she refused to think about the implications of that. Father's could be found as easily as terrorists in Section; she would believe it when she knew it to be true. It could very well be just another Section game – but where was it going now?

This wasn't the time for that discussion. That would come later…after she'd spoken to Michael…after they'd put together the pieces. Right now she needed to clean house, her way. She prayed it would be enough.

"That's not love. I'm sorry for you Sinclair." She told him. "You'll go to Section 7. You'll take whatever position they are willing to offer you. You will never come back here or near my family again."

Nikita walked to the door, looking back over her shoulder at Mr. Jones for confirmation that he would not cancel Sinclair the minute she left. Because once she did, she never wanted to see him again, but she didn't want him dead because of her either.

Mr. Jones nodded.

"As you wish, consider it a favor for your exemplary work here at Section One."

Nikita cringed inwardly as Deja Vu swept over her. Straightening her shoulders, she let the door shut behind her and wondered just how long it would be before she and Michael and Adam paid for that favor.


	18. Chapter 18

Standard disclaimer applies.

Forgive me for the long delay and thank you so much for the continued interest in my stories. I will be tying this story up in the next few chapters with the possibility of a sequel. I hope you enjoy, please read and review…I love the feedback!

* * *

**_Above the clouds_**

Mr. Jones sat silently in his oversized leather seat as he stared out the jet window.

The large stormy clouds hovered well beneath them so all he was left with was a huge expanse of pale gray sky…the perfect backdrop for him to ponder his day.

Overall, things had gone quite well at Section One.

He had never had any intention of actually killing Sinclair. Really, what would that have accomplished besides ridding himself of any future embarrassments his son might cause? No, the situation had presented itself perfectly. Sinclair would no longer be of any trouble to him since he would be well out of touch at Section 7 in Iceland and now Operations owed him for his favor.

Quite well indeed.

It was still a shame that his son hadn't fulfilled his original primary purpose but one had to be able to adapt. He would simply profile out a new end game. After all, Michael had been the quintessential operative before – having him back on the inside could benefit them all. He already had a few ideas that he was going to propose in the next war room session back at Oversight…

Adam was another outstanding situation.

The other half of the question: "What is Oversight going to do?"

His training had been going unbelievably well, with little argument from Operations or Michael on the semantics of it. That development _had_ surprised him. Adam was a born leader and Mr. Jones didn't believe in accidents. Logistically it gave them more options for the future of Section, not necessarily the options he would have preferred, but full of potential that he could not deny. He would monitor the boy's progress for now. There was a time for every purpose.

Yes, things would work out to their advantage; he was quite certain of it.

He turned away from the window at the buzz of his intercom.

"Mr. Jones – we've lost all our communications and radar. We believe someone is jamming them. Should we execute protocol **drop shipment**?"

Mr. Jones tapped his fingers on the side of his seat.

_It could be nothing…just the storm below…and he really didn't feel like strapping on a parachute…it did terrible things to his compacted disc…_

"We'll wait a minute and see if it restores - **drop shipment** in 3 if it doesn't."

He took one more glance out the window only to see the missile coming straight at him.

"Bloody Hell." He whispered, unable to take his eyes off of it.

The last thought he had was that he wouldn't be coming back from the dead this time.

**_Back at Section One_**

Every Section went on immediate lock down once the news came through that Mr. Jones plane had been obliterated out of the sky. No survivors. They hadn't even had time to execute eject protocol.

Red Cell, Black Curtain and a few other small splinter groups were all claiming responsibility, which meant that it was probably another group entirely or worse, a mole.

Not good, Nikita thought as she paced around the Perch, not good at all.

She had been the one to break the news to Sinclair who was still awaiting transport to Section 7. She hadn't been entirely sure what his reaction might be but needless to say, the one she got was sad…but not surprising.

"I'll believe it when I see him in Hell." He'd told her and then turned away.

She hadn't bothered to tell him that Hell was relative.

Michael watched Nikita from his post at Comm. She wouldn't show it outwardly but this whole fiasco with Sinclair and Mr. Jones had left her unnerved. After being back in for the time he had, it was clear that she had taken Section to a whole new level. The changes were dramatic…to have the rug pulled out from under her by someone in her close ranks both in Section and out of it…well, he knew all too well just how much that hurt.

But he doubted that she had much sympathy for the dead Mr. Jones. Fake fathers, real fathers, fathers that came back from the dead – they weren't things that anyone should have to deal with – Section or not.

He would go to her later. They needed to re-group and assess what all this meant.

Clearly Mr. Jones had been planning for years to bring Sinclair and Nikita together. Plans at his level were never _that_ simple. The question remained whether Mr. Jones had any champions back at Oversight to his cause. There was the _possibility_ that this part of her hidden scripted past would come to an end with his death but in Section you only stayed alive by dealing in _probabilities_ calculated out to the nth degree by computers and the experience of a million profiled missions.

This was most definitely off profile. And then of course there was his gut, his intuition to follow…and Michael had learned long ago just how important that could be.

Right now his intuition was telling him that they needed to tread carefully, not only for their sake but for Adam's as well. The only comfort he felt in that thought was that it was entirely too familiar.


	19. Chapter 19

Outside Walter's – 3 hours later

Standard disclaimer applies.

Ok – I think I may be on a roll and all your lovely feedback is feeding my hungry muse!

Thanks so much! Forgive me the Battlestar Galactica reference but it's one of my favorite shows. I've also been trying to sneak in episode names from LFN.

* * *

**_A few months later - at Com in Section One_**

Adam liked profiling missions. Scratch that – he loved it.

He'd never felt such a sense of purpose before in his life. It seemed so long ago already since his father and Nikita had walked him into Section…the anger and hatred he had felt then was almost a distant memory.

Sometimes when he was alone in his quarters late at night in the dark it actually worried him. Worried him that he had adapted so quickly, that the thought of planning how to kill people, even though they were very bad people, didn't make him stop and ponder.

He felt years older and wiser in the short time he'd been here. Oxford seemed somewhat childish really – all that existential learning on subjects he wouldn't really ever use. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was using them, just not in a way or place that he could have ever imagined.

Section. It would seem that it was the beginning, the middle and the end. After all, without Section, he wouldn't even be alive.

So it shouldn't surprise him that_ this_ was where he would really learn about what was truly important…like how to keep innocent people alive…like how to keep the world in some sense of order. He was amazed by just how close to chaos the world sat most of the time. Any slight shift in the balance could be disastrous. One bad person with the right weapons in the right place and entire generations or races could feasibly be wiped out.

He could never have really understood that without being in Section. He'd wanted more than something to remember. Well, he'd certainly gotten that!

And he knew that he had it a hell of a lot easier than most people in here. Just as he knew that a large part of the reason for that was because of who he was, Michael's son, the prodigal son. He heard the whispers, felt the eyes on him, felt the weight of all that he was supposed to be.

But that wasn't the only reason and he knew this too. He _was_ special. He could feel it.

Already he could see things in missions that others couldn't. It was almost a sixth sense type of feeling. He was just thankful that it wasn't dead people he was seeing. His visions actually saved lives. He'd always thought his father was a little crazy when he kept moving them around, saying that his intuition was telling him that it was time to go.

He understood that now too, including how difficult all these years must have been on his father. He and Nikita definitely deserved to be together.

Looking up at the Perch, he smiled. There they were, as usual, working side by side to make the world a safer place, just like they had for him.

Nikita had always been the missing piece for him…for his father too.

Sometimes he thought about his mother…but all he had were photos and the old memories in his head and they were slowly fading over the years. She had been fragile…much more fragile than Nikita. His mother surely would not have been able to handle the thought of Section. He was glad that she never had to.

His father caught his eye and allowed the smile to show there.

Things were good…different…but good. They were closer now, now that there were no more half-truths.

As he started to look back down, movement and someone speaking from one of the external access points caught his eye.

"I said DON'T.TOUCH.ME!" A female voice stated loudly and with clear irritation her voice.

Adam turned fully to see a willowy blonde of medium height being led through Com by Security. She wore the standard new recruit outfit – black tank top with dark khaki cargo pants and her hair hung around her face in long choppy pieces barely reaching her shoulders.

She wasn't pretty in the conventional sense. She had dark eyes and an almost angular face. She reminded him a little of the actress that had played Starbuck in the old Battlestar Galactica series.

Hard but soft as well…and he found himself transfixed on her as she was led away.

This was the part of Section that he found difficult. How did a girl like that come to be in a place like this?

He intended to find out.

**_In the Perch_**

Michael watched as Adam's eyes followed the new recruit. He knew Nikita was watching as well.

"Who is she?" He asked.

Nikita wistfully turned away from the glass that felt more like a mirror at the moment to look at Michael.

"She's me…20 years ago. You know the milk carton story Michael. Wrong place, wrong time…"

Except that for her, it hadn't been wrong, it had been made to happen. That wasn't the case with this girl. She had literally been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had witnessed things that had made them have to bring her in.

Nikita hoped she would make it. It would seem Adam did too.

It was déjà vu all over again as they both looked at Adam's face.

"Hope. Her name is Hope."


	20. Chapter 20

Standard disclaimer applies.

I'm so glad to see new reviewers and I totally appreciate all your lovely comments.

The second half of this chapter is slightly fluffy but I had to lighten it up a bit and try to figure out how a young Adam might deal with um, situations, and the fact of who he is.

* * *

**_A few weeks later - In the Tower_**

"What do you _**mean**_ the communication came from inside Section??" Nikita asked Michael, her surprise evident.

"Exactly what I said, the communication to shoot down Mr. Jones plane came from somewhere inside Section. So far all evidence points to Center. I made them triple check it and backtrack it to the source."

Nikita leaned back in her chair, hands behind her head, and closed her eyes.

It didn't make any sense. If Center had wanted Mr. Jones out of the picture all they had to do was cancel him. It would have been much simpler to just manufacture some damning piece of evidence against him that violated the Charter. There was no reason for them to make such a spectacle out of it. Since when did Center need a reason…because it was never about_ need_, it was all about the end game.

She only wished that she felt more surprised than she was.

"It just doesn't make sense. Why go to all that trouble?"

Michael watched her brain click away at the facts, waiting for her to come to the same conclusions that he had. He picked up his wine glass and took a sip.

Opening her eyes, she looked into his.

"Center wants something…something that Mr. Jones was clearly inhibiting…but they don't want the internal stir up that cancelling him would have caused. And it's much more appealing to heat up the outside world on it and give the Sections a wild goose chase to go after. Then this keeps the Sections busy and looking anywhere but where they should be…never knowing that they should be watching their own backs."

It also offered some slight explanation for why they hadn't replaced Mr. Jones yet – clearly it had something to do with their plan, Nikita thought.

"My thoughts exactly." Michael responded, pleased as usual that they were always so in tune.

Nikita shook her head, disgusted.

"It's not enough to lie to them but they have to lie to us too…" She said quietly, remembering another time, another place, where she'd said the same thing. Alec Chandler…the slaver…some missions, like that one, became permanently tattooed into memory.

"So why did it take us this long to figure this out?" She asked.

"Data encryption worthy of Birkhoff. The techs haven't seen something this sophisticated ever. It would seem that they definitely did not want this being discovered. They seem to forget that they trained us to be better than they are."

"What next Michael? We've now been operating blind on this for months. What else could be going on that we don't know about?"

She had just voiced Michael's most serious concern and the portion of the conversation that he had not been looking forward to.

"We don't know yet…but _**something**_ is going on. As they were cracking the encryption they came across some extensive current chatter. Something is going to happen and it doesn't seem like we will have to wait too much longer until it does."

Nikita sat up abruptly in her chair, leaning forward, eyes blazing.

"Something as in WHAT Michael? Adam, we have to keep him safe! This should have been the first thing you told me!"

He reached across to take her hand in his, rubbing his fingers over her palm, loving how her protective instincts were so strong and natural. He knew she wasn't angry with him, knew that she was just angry at Center and Section and just tired of the games that never seemed to end. Just as they both knew that they would keep their family safe no matter what Center had planned.

"We don't know what Nikita or it would have been the first thing I told you. For now…we wait."

She held his hand tighter, unable to shake the feeling that slowly but surely they were approaching zero.

"We wait."

**_In the Weapons Practice area_**

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Hope tried not to let her nervousness show but firing a gun wasn't exactly something she'd learned in Home Economics. She glanced over at Adam as she pushed the button to bring her target sheet in.

He smiled at her – that smile of his that made it impossible for her to hate _everything_ about this place.

Adam pulled the large sheet off the clips and regarded it, making a bigger effort than he needed to in order to review it.

He wasn't her trainer after all…he was just helping her get more comfortable, more adapted to life in Section. At least that was his story if anyone asked.

"Good work. 2 shots to the head, 3 in the chest and one in the…umm….groin."

He winced visibly.

"Don't worry Adam – your family jewels are safe from me." She told him and winked.

That hadn't come out exactly how she'd wanted…and she couldn't keep the slight blush out of her cheeks. Damn that light skin of hers!

Adam replaced his wince with a grin noticing the pink rising to the surface. "Umm, thanks, I think."

Truthfully, he wasn't sure that he wanted his "family jewels" as she so put it "safe" from him and he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. This was probably her way of telling him that she wasn't interested…which left him feeling well, kind of empty and a bit sad. And even though Operatives weren't supposed to get involved with each other…given his father's situation it clearly happened…he'd begun to hope that maybe something might be building here.

"Anytime golden boy." She remarked as she turned away, slid her goggles back down and loaded another clip into the gun.

Golden boy?? Adam thought. What the heck was that about? Was it because of who he was that she wasn't interested? Hmm…he'd have to figure that out.

Adam turned back to watch her unload the clip again, enjoying the way her short pigtails bounced with each shot. He'd have to thank Walter later for suggesting that he help her out with target practice.

He may be the golden boy but that didn't mean he was off limits…or did it?


End file.
